don't forget
by liveforbooksandtea
Summary: What if you woke up in the box with all of your memories, including one of you reading the maze runner trilogy? would you tell about everyone's fates and endings? would you help find them find the way out, like they do in the book? Wow, i'm bad with summaries, but they're hard to wright when you don't have much of a plan yet. Just try to enjoy! Rated T just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello to anyone who's reading this, thanks for stumbling onto my story! This is my first fanfic, and I'm having a hard time figuring the whole of the fan fiction website out, so any helpful comments would be appreciated. I don't have much of a plan for this story, but I'll happily continue it if people show interest. Also, if you have any ideas for a plot line, feel free to let me know! Thanks! ****Disclaimer: I don't own any of James Dashner's wonderful ideas! only my own!**

**-liveforbooksandtea**

A wave of terror splashes over me, waking me up from my sleep.

I sit up too quickly, and try to look around. But everything's black, there's not a speck of light. I'm aware of the cool, unforgiving floor I'm resting on; it feels like metal. I stand up as best as I can with my shaking knees and try to feel around. As soon as I do, the metal floor starts moving, accompanied by harsh metal-on-metal grinding noises. The whole contraption jolts upward, forcing me to the ground, and moves toward the sky. Or, I assume there's a sky somewhere up there. I stand up again, hugging the (metal) wall to my right, and feel around once again. There are a couple crates, but aside from that, it looks like I'm trapped alone in a metal box.

_Now how did I get myself into this situation_? I think wildly to myself, coming to realise that I didn't know. But wait; hold on- it's like there's a barrier in my brain, holding back precious information and memories.

My box prison is now steadily rising, the horrible grinding sound diminishing just enough to be able to concentrate on pondering about my odd position.

_Well, every barrier has its weaknesses _I think, and I start mentally prodding and poking around my brain. Then, surprisingly enough, I find something- there's a trickle of water escaping my mental dam: my name. Jaelyn. The trickle of information widens. I'm fifteen. I have a sister. And parents: named Melvin and Christina. And a dog, and a house in Canada, and- all of the sudden, my mental dam is ruptured; Information and facts and numbers push and shove their way into my mind. It's so overwhelming, and I'm trying to catch it all and store it away, but they all keep coming and coming. So I sit down in a corner, and let it all arrive. After a bit, it starts to taper down, and particular thought voices itself louder and bolder than the others. _I love to read books_. And back home, there was one particular novel that was a favourite of mine: The Maze Runner. Even though I still don't _how _I got here, I do know this.

I must be in the Box, inside a book.

And I'm heading towards the Maze.


	2. Chapter 2

**A\N: thanks to the people who took a look at my story, it means a lot to me! I ****realized too late that the first chapter was really short, so I decided to do a quick but a bit longer update. Here you go! Please, _please _review, it would mean the world to me! (special thanks to _May a Chance_, that review made me really happy) anyway, enjoy!**

About half an hour- or maybe forty-five minuets, (it's hard to judge the time in the dark), the Box comes to a wailing halt. I can just barely hear the newbie alarm shutting off, so I stand up and brush the dirt off my cloths. Waiting for the lid to open, I lean against the corner and fold my arms. Then I think again and lift my hand so it's covering my eyes, because I know for sure that the light will be blinding compared to this inky darkness. And I remember that in the book, they mentioned that Thomas was all squinty because of the sun when the lid of the Box came off. After a few minuets, the lid is heaved open, followed by a couple grunts. When the top on the elevator type thing is all the way off, someone jumps down to join me. I wonder if Teresa is here yet. Then I wouldn't be the only girl. Or maybe only Thomas has arrived. Perhaps even Chuck hasn't set foot here yet. Not daring to take my hands away completely, I decide to open my fingers a crack to see who the newcomer is. Nothing but this small amount of light makes my eyes water, but I blink tears away so I can see my visitor. It's Newt, of course. He usually helps the Newbies. Good. He's second in command, so he'll lead me to Alby. I need to get all this information out of me, before the Creators can kill me or something. Because, of course, this must be a mistake. I'm the perfect ticket out of here, and I thought that the Gladers were supposed to figure the exit out for themselves. Then again, it might be another variable. It's weird how I only have memories about life before the Flare, when I was a bit younger. But it's like someone cut a chunk of information out of my mind, stopping me from remembering my trip into the box and WICKED. Really, my only source of information is the Maze Runner book. And so far, all of that's been pretty accurate.

Deciding that the sun won't blind me, I take my hands away from my eyes to get a better view of Newt. He looks, unsurprisingly, like the actor who played him in the movie. He was about to say something, but when I uncover my face, he stops short, staring at me. Hmm. Maybe Teresa hasn't arrived yet.

"You… you're a… guys, the shank's a- " he stutters, trying to grasp a full sentence.

Impatient voices rise up around us.

"Come on Newt, we haven't got all day! Just _speak_, for klunk's sake!" someone shouts from above.

"It's a- she's a _girl._" Responds Newt, finally making good use of his vocal cords.

I sigh and cross my arms. This was taking too long; I had to get to Ably, and tell him everything. I was too scared of forgetting something important.

"Yes, I'm a _girl, _thanks for the update, Newt. " I reply, intentionally using his name to let him know that I'm different than other Greenies. He pales, looking even more shocked then before.

"Hold on, you said my name, how do you bloody know-"

"Look, it's hard to explain… But I really need to speak to Alby, before I forget anything. "

"Forget anything? You have to remember something to be able to forget it! Listen girly, you must be jacked in the head from the Box ride. Just calm down, you can rest up in the Slammer for a while-"

Nope. No way I was going into the Slammer. I couldn't wait that long.

"Wasn't calling you by your name enough? Look, this is more important than you think, I have to talk to Alby right now!" I cry, my voice rising in panic.

"No can do about Alby, not until tomorrow at least, during the official tour. He's buggin' busy right now." He says, crossing his arms. He still obviously thinks I'm going mad.

No way I'm waiting until tomorrow. That would be worse than a couple of hours in the Slammer; I can just imagine all these precious thoughts slip out of my head while I slept.

"Look here, _Newt._" I step close to him and try to look intimidating, even though he was almost a foot taller than me. Looking him right in the eyes, I cross my arms and continue angrily. "I have a mind filled to the brim with information that could very well get you out of here. And if you don't help me out of this god damn box and straight to Alby right _now_, than I will happily skip into the maze and throw myself to the grievers to die along with my information, so you shanks will never leave."

I feel bad for yelling at my favourite character, but that seems to do it. Seeming to realise that maybe I wasn't completely insane, he mutters "good that" and backs up, yelling at the Gladers above us to let down a rope. As soon as I'm on solid ground, I go through the normal Greenie procedure; being brushed off, poked, prodded and shoved by a variety of hands. Only then do I notice that I'm wearing comfortable track pants, thin running shoes, and a light shirt. Shoving away the hands, I turn to Newt, knowing I'm about to explode with impatience.

"Come on, let's _go…_"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hi guys! Sorry, I was going to upload this chapter yesterday, but I still had to edit and it was getting late at night, and editing when I'm tired is a bad idea. I tend to skip over lots of bad mistakes. Anyway, I tried to make this chapter longer than the others, but I'm not sure how happy I am with it… I'll try to toss in some more action next chapter. Anyhow, enjoy! **

**-Liveforbookandtea**

Despite the situation, I can't help but look around in awe at the Glade. It's everything from the book and the movie; the animal pens, gardens, the forest, etcetera. Gladers (all boys) mill around, talking, working, and staring at me. I try not to feel self-conscious, but it's really hard not to when you stand out like you're the white paint spilled on a huge black canvas. And what makes it even more intimidating is that a lot of them look a bit older than me; I only remember turning fifteen not long ago. _But how long is not long ago? _I think. Who knows, I could've been with WICKED for months, years even, without remembering. Just to be sure, I turn to Newt as we walk and ask: "Hey Newt, how old do you think I am?" He looks at me and scowls. "Thought you remembered everything." I sigh. "I'll explain more when we get to Alby, but I don't remember any thing about the Box or WICKED-."

At this, his scowl turns immediately into a frown of confusion.

"Wait," he says, interrupting me (we seem to do that a lot to each other). "WICKED? …Like on the walls of the maze?" I groan in frustration. I was only confusing him, and I didn't want to elaborate.

"Just wait until we get to Alby, I don't want to explain twice. But what about my age?" As Newt scrutinizes me, I try once again not to feel self-conscious, but I'm covered in dirt, sweat, and grime, so I can't be looking my best. And my hair is streaked with grass and dust; I can feel it when I run my fingers through my locks. I pull a strand curiously in front of my face. It's kind of a golden-brown type of color, or maybe a dirty blonde. This gets me thinking about my whole appearance; I can't remember the last time I looked in a mirror. It wasn't like I forget what I look like, because I sort of I hazy image in my mind, but you think about it, you spend a lot more time looking at other peoples faces rather than your own. It's not like there's mirrors everywhere you go.

"I'd say about fourteen or fifteen" Newt's voice, laced with his british accent, startles me out of my thoughts. "Um, excuse me?"

"Your age, you look about fourteen or fifteen." Newt pauses, then reconsiders. "Or maybe older. It's hard to tell."

"Right. Thanks, Newt." I reply. Looks like I was pretty much right, I couldn't have been with WICKED for too long.

"Hey, we're here." I look up and notice that we're standing at the Homestead door. This too is exactly how I imagined it: Tall, rickety, and looking like it could fall down at any moment. Trying to ignore the feeling of unease, I push the door open. Inside is dark and cool, a nice change from the brutal and sticky heat that the sun brings outside. Newt follows me in, hollering for Alby. By now, I've calmed down a bit. So far, I haven't forgotten anything, and we're close to Alby, which means I can pass on the information.

"Newt, what's going on here? The Box came late, the tour will be tomorrow-" Alby has just walked into the room, his nose buried in a roll of paper. Maps of the Maze, no doubt. Newt clears his throat, snatching Alby's attention away from the prints. Alby looks up, startled, and sees me for the first time. Actually, his reaction is kind of fun to watch. His facial expression ranges from pure shock, to disbelief, to near amusement, then it finally settles on anger. Instead of saying anything to me, he whips around, and walks right back up the set of stairs he came down. Without even turning his head, he calls for Newt to follow him, then screams for Minho. Newt glances at me apologetically. "Just stay here for a bit, okay? I'm going to talk some sense into those shanks, it won't be very long." He starts to walk up the stairs, but suddenly, with one foot hovering over the fourth step, he turns, and adds uncomfortably,

"Um, try not to forget anything." And with that, he follows Alby. _Is he being serious right now?_ I think. A smirk-y sort of grimace spreads onto my face. _Boys_. There's no way I'm just going to stand here to let them debate my future, not when I'm just waiting, trying not to forget about theirs. So, I turn and start to trace the boy's steps upstairs. I tread quietly, however, because I'm kind of curious to see what they're talking about without me. The stairs lead me to a little corridor, with one door on each side and one on the end. I start by choosing the door on the left side, which is shut, and press my ear against it. Nothing. Same with the one on the right side. Yet when I approach the door at the end of the hall, I notice it's slightly cracked open, and Newt's British accent wafts through the opening. "No, Alby, no! We can't just let her rot in the Slammer; she has information, she can-" Alby's gruffer voice interrupts Newt's. "What information, Newt? What could she possibly tell us? The way out?" When I hear this, I want to push the door open and tell them that _yes_, I could help them out of here, but I hold myself back. I want to hear a little more. Newt groans in obvious frustration. "I don't know, Alby, she only wants to tell you. So are you going to go get her or not?" "Maybe I won't, Newt! Minho and I have other things to deal with at the moment!"

"Ya, like what, slint-head?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe like a _dead Griever _orsomething_?_"

Aha. Different voice, this must be Minho. He continues arrogantly. "Besides, no offence dude, but it's not super likely that a girl's gonna waltz in here announcing the exit that we've been looking for, for almost_ three _years." Okay, there's my breaking point. I push the door all the way open to see Minho, Newt and Alby all nearly jump out of their seats.

"Minho, the book doesn't lie. It's like someone injected pure sarcasm into your vocal cords." I lean against the doorframe, enjoying the look on their faces. Breaking the shocked silence, I continue, trying to throw some authority into my voice. "Look. I'm going to explain everything to you, and I will not be interrupted. This means, Alby, that there will be no questions until the end. Remind you of anything?" I smile a bit at this, remembering from in the book how Alby would torture Greenies during the tour by not letting them question him until the very end.

Alby opens his mouth in protest, but Minho nudges him into silence.

Good.

"So," I start, now feeling weirdly nervous. But I can't let my nerves interrupt my survival, so I try to keep going despite the shakiness of my voice. "My name is Jaelyn, but you call me Jae. I'm going to start by saying things you all already know, but I shouldn't. That way, maybe you'll believe me from the beginning.

"We're in the Glade, which is in the middle of the Maze. Out there, there are beasts called Grievers. If they sting you, you go through the painful process of the Changing, and get a few random memories back. Everyone here works day in, day out, with jobs ranging from Sloppers to Track-Hoes to Runners, depending on your abilities," I take a shaky breath and lean onto the table with my hands, then continue. "And I know about people stuff; like you have a cook named Frypan, and Winston is the keeper of the Slaughterhouse. You have a runner named Ben, and I knew all you…" I pause, forgetting where I was going with all the random names. Making use of the lull of silence, Minho speaks up.

"Where… where did you learn all of this?"

"Hey, no questions till the end!" I snap, but then sigh in defeat. "The books. I learned it all in the books. When I came up in the Box, I had almost all of my memories. I remember my parents, and where I lived, and my sister and my friends. But what I don't remember is how I got here, in the Glade. Its like someone took a great big pair of scissors and cut a chunk out of the fabric of my memories.

"But now, let's focus on what's important. I have knowledge, and lots of it. I…" I stop again. Where am I supposed to start? With the way out of the Maze? The sun flares? The Flare disease itself?

"Hey, She-bean! Spill it!" Minho is getting impatient, but yelling at me won't moves things along. The emotions of being here start to catch up to me, but I push them back. I can break down later, when the boys know enough. "Sorry… just gathering my thoughts… I'm going to start with the Creators,"

The three boys lean forward impatiently, and I continue. "The leader is a woman named Ava Paige, and there's a very good reason that we're all here. Or, at least I think it's good. You may not agree. A while ago, something happened to the earth, and some sort of sun flares destroyed it. During this particular catastrophe, some scientists accidentally released a virus into the open, and it went international. They call it the Flare, and it's terrible. It takes over this part of your brain, driving you slowly insane, eventually morphing into what they call a crank." When I say this, it takes all my willpower to not look at Newt. His innocence and lack of knowledge hurts too much, and same goes for Alby. As I talk on and on about the Flare and the outside world, even giving them bits of memories from when I was a kid, it makes me wonder about what I can tell them. I know how it's all going to end, if all goes according to the book. I wonder if I can save them by telling the Gladers their fates, or if it will just make them go insane. I definitely would, if I knew I was going to die at one point or another. I talk on and on, not mentioning anything really about the future, but about the world before and during the Flare. Soon, however, when I happen to glance up at the window and see that it's pitch black out, I notice how tired I am. Seeing my exhaustion, Alby says through a yawn, "Look, Greenie, get to bed. Your not even forming proper sentences anymore, and you have plenty of time to continue tomorrow."

Too sleepy to argue, I nod my head numbly and let Newt escort me to an empty room in the Homestead. Odd how I was freaking out before about not being able to speak, and now I was letting myself be led away for the night. Oh well, must be my sleepy sub-conscious talking. In fact, I'm so tired that I can do nothing but vaguely hear Newt mention that he was just down the hall if I needed anything, bid him goodnight, stumble into my room, and fall face first onto the bed before I fall asleep. The last thought that I form before drifting off is, _who knows what tomorrow will bring?_


End file.
